


I (didn't) believe them when they called you a hurricane

by ExtremeEvil95



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Good Ending, Everyone Needs A Hug, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst, M/M, POV Poe Dameron, Poe Dameron Needs A Hug, Post-TLJ, Slow Build, Slow Pace, TLJ fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-26 16:19:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13239477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExtremeEvil95/pseuds/ExtremeEvil95
Summary: Set after the events of The Last Jedi, so this will contain spoilers!After the Resistance's narrow escape from Crait and The First Order, the Millennium Falcon seeks refuge in one of the old rebellion's abandoned bases while they wait for an old friend to help them out.Poe tries to come to terms with everything that's happened; all of the people they've lost, and how he's supposed to lead when he's barely able to hold on to what little hope there's left.He gravitates towards Finn.Finn, who could've died but didn't.Finn, who he loves.Two unstoppable forces set to collide.





	I (didn't) believe them when they called you a hurricane

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Wow, I didn't think this would happen, but after the movie I just felt like I had to write /something/ and thanks to all of the Stormpilot fics I've read over the past few weeks, this idea came to life.
> 
> I've never written anything for this franchise before (if we ignore the OFC/Anakin fanfic I wrote when I was 11) so I'm very nervous about posting this!! I apologise in advance if any of the characterisation is OOC, I'm still learning about the characters and aren't fully familiar with them yet to maybe give the best portrayal. But, yeah, I wanted to give it a shot so I hope it's okay at least!!
> 
> The lore and physics of the SW universe is not something I'm invested in either, so I apologise if it seems inconherrent and unrealistic.
> 
> I just wanted something where Poe tries to deal with the loss of so many of his friends, because angst is something I apparently live for, but I think this is pretty harmless in that sense.
> 
> I'm pretty pleased with how the story turned out altogether, so hopefully you guys think so too!
> 
> Anyway, I'm not English and therefor is bound to have grammatical errors, but I've tried to correct the most obvious ones. I tend to come back and edit and correct mistakes every now and then, so bear with me in that sense please. :')
> 
> Enjoy! x
> 
> (PS, title comes from the song Kettering by The Antlers. Amazing track!)

The inside of a cockpit have for as long as Poe could remember felt like a home; a grain of safety in a large, unyielding galaxy. Something he _knows_ how to handle, and handle well at that. He grew up with flight in his step and a need to be up there - just like his mom was - in the clouds and see everything the galaxy had to offer, good or bad.

Poe Dameron _breaths_ flying. Simple as that. He isn’t the greatest pilot in the whole of the Resistance for nothing; years of hard work and pushing himself to the limit and further beyond what was deemed responsible or fit had brought him to where he is now.

Not that it meant anything anymore. How could someone hold any sort of pride over a title when what little remained of the Resistance could fit into the _Millennium Falcon;_ when most of his fellow pilots - friends _, siblings_ in everything but blood - had given their lives to a war that already had taken so _much?_ How was it possible _not_ to feel like the walls were breaking and the cold harshness of _space_  seeping in through the cracks? Ever so present, waiting for a chance to rip the ship apart and launch them all out into the unforgiving nothingness around them.

For the first time - in a very, _very_ long time _-_ Poe wishes for nothing more than to be back on solid ground again; somewhere where they could catch their breaths for a day or two without the fear of having the First Order breathing down their necks. If such a place even exists anymore, Poe isn’t sure.

Poe isn’t sure there would ever be a place where they could settle without being reminded of everything the Resistance had lost; of all the people that _should_ be there with them - _damn it!_ \- but instead were gone forever. Would it ever stop _hurting_? And, more importantly, if it _did_ stop - what would then remind him of the friends he would never see again?

 

 

*~*

 

Hope is a fragile thing.

Poe feels a tiny flicker of it when they get away from Crait in one piece; he feels it again, a tinier bit stronger, a few days later when General Organa comes in contact with Lando Calrissian (another name Poe remembers hearing in passing as a legend. Lately all of the legends from his childhood have a habit of turning real, and horribly mortal) who promises that he will try to find them a place to stay; Poe can almost touch the feeling’s light, eerily familiar tugs whenever he meets Finn’s gaze or when he notices the focus in Rey’s frame when she finds quiet places to train or meditate in the crowded ship.

Hope is not something Poe takes for granted anymore. When it presents itself, he launches at the feeling and clings to it with whitening knuckles and ragged breaths. He knows that if the flickering flame in his chest dies out, the rest would crumble and follow.

 

*~*

 

Hoth is as different from D’Qar as two planets possibly can be. Where D’Qar had been green with gentle breezes, surrounded by forests and lakes, Hoth is sharp and cold edges with icy winds that makes both teeth and bones rattle.

Poe has never sat foot on the planet before, but he’s heard the stories and seen the vids. He’s used to warmth, growing up in the jungle - surrounded by nature - back at Yavin 4. Watching how the biting winds makes the snow on the ground dance in vicious ways from a window of the _Falcon_ makes him shiver.

He’s not entirely sure he wants to go out there, even though he’s wished to get out of this ship more times than he could count over the last few days. He wished for something with a little less bite and promises of losing toes due to the cold, that’s all.

At least their stay will be temporary.

Lando promised he would meet them at the old Rebel base in a few days. Having the few commanding officers that remains of the Resistance coming knocking at his door is a too big of a risk (contacting him by comms in itself had been a risky move, but times are desperate and allies is barely something they have anymore) so General Organa came with the proposition to meet here. ”Who in their right mind would come to this icy rock?” she had offered as an explanation. Hopefully the answer to that question is no one.

The First Order hasn’t been on their radars ever since they left Crait. For now, they’re off the grid, but luck is a fleeting thing that quickly could run out. The Resistance knows that better than anyone at this point.

 

”Seeing all of this snow almost makes me miss Jakku.”

The hints of a smile tugs at the corners of Poe’s mouth. Briefly he turns his head to the side; Finn’s standing there next to him, leaning against the wall with his gaze focused on the landscape slowly coming to life outside the window. 

Poe thinks that D’Qar and Hoth are as different from each other as two planets can be, but Jakku and Hoth are even _more_ so: truly each other’s definite contrasts. One planet bathing in warm, treacherous sand, and the other ripping people apart with biting winds.

”Jakku ain’t that bad,” Poe _feels_ the deadpan Finn sends his way, only to increase his ghost of a smile into something with a bit more substance, ”once you get over the sand that can literally swallow you whole, the burning heat and the charming locals, it’s practically bearable to see the planet from afar.” 

Keeping the usual easiness in his tone is harder than Poe expected it to be. What feels like years is not more than weeks and months, since the day Finn saved _his_ life and Poe repaid him with crashing their ship on Jakku. Sometimes Poe still struggles with believing that Finn actually survived the crash; how Finn later on could take a _lightsaber_ to his back and come out functioning on the other side, Poe doesn't understand in the slightest.

It’s one of the good things Poe has left; having Finn here with him, both of them fighting for the same goal. Means more than Poe ever expected it would do.

Finn makes a sound caught between a snort and huff. 

One of the first, real sounds of emotion Poe’s heard over the last few days that doesn’t hold the weight of sorrow tainting it from every angle. He misses when people smiled and it also reached their eyes. 

”As I said, a _lmost_ makes me miss Jakku,” Finn repeats, the corner of his mouth curling faintly upwards. He pauses, glancing at Poe with eyes that holds a million different questions inside of them.

Poe wishes - _oh how he wishes -_ he could help answer every single one. 

For Finn, there’s not a lot he wouldn’t do. That’s why there’s a tightness around his heart that feels and tastes a lot like Rose’s name; the guilt of not being in her place, pushing Finn out of the way of the First Order’s weapon like he’d been _close_ to do. How she now is sleeping in a cot in the main room of the _Falcon;_ not able to do anything but breathing.

He wishes so desperately for things to be different.

Finn opens his mouth; Poe catches the exact moment he changes his mind, how Finn doesn’t meet his gaze and looks out the window instead. There’s questions on Finn’s tongue that wants to come out, and Poe wonders if any of them are like the ones Poe constantly pushes down and away too.

Those kind of questions that would explain why Poe felt like his world was being ripped apart even more at the seams when Finn disobeyed Poe’s direct order and continued to head towards the enemy lines on his own; how he keeps orbiting around Finn, feeling a different sort of safety in his presence than what Poe feels behind the controls of his X-Wing. 

They’re dancing around the issue, whatever the issue might be. Two immovable objects set on a collision course.

”How’s Rose? Any changes?” a sour taste spreads in Poe’s mouth at the mention of the unconscious girl; still, he needs to know. He’d sat by her bedside earlier that morning, both for Paige’s sake and Rose’s bravery. Without her, all of their lives would’ve been lost. But still, there’s just so much guilt someone can take before it gets too much.

Finn’s face falters at the mention of his friend. His hands clench and unclench, not sure about what to do with them.

Poe leans in enough for his hand to clasp around one of Finn’s jittery ones. He’s trembling too, from what he’s not sure. To hold onto Finn’s hand gives Poe something to focus on; the warmth coming from his skin, how their fingers loosely slides together, both of them after the same thing.

Reassurance that they’re alive for another day; that none of the sacrifices they’ve all made were for nothing.

”She’s stable, but still not responding,” Finn eventually sighs. He’s upset about what Rose did, who wouldn’t be in his shoes? It’s a odd feeling that, to have someone save your life and get hurt in the process. ”The General thinks it’s for the best to let her sleep until we’ve found a safe place to stay. She’s a fighter, Rey says she can feel Rose through the Force and that I don’t have to worry about _if_ she wakes up, but _when_ she does. Still, I can’t not be worried when she’s just..”

Finn keeps his emotions on his sleeve; some just harder to pick out than others. When he looks at Poe, there’s overwhelming compassion and worry about Rose shining in his dark eyes, with the tainted edge of a similar guilt to the one scratching at the inside of Poe’s chest, swirling in the middle.

That’s one of the many things Poe admires Finn for. How unafraid Finn is for showing how he feels, while Poe tries to keep all of hurt locked into a box in the very back of his mind. A commander needs to be strong, if Poe falters the others could falter, too, and that’s something they can’t afford to happen.

”I know,” Poe says, because he _knows_ how it feels. He felt the same way when Finn was in a coma after the battle at _Starkiller_ base. He knows so well what Finn’s going through, and how there’s nothing Poe can say to make any of it easier to handle.

Finn offers him a bleak smile in return. It turns into a weak grimace when he turns to look out through the window again, his body stiffening on it’s own. Finn tries not to let the pain show, but Poe wonders how he’s managed to go through all of the fights - _the crash_ \- with the scar still not fully healed on his back.

”Does your back hurt?” Poe says, reaching to let his free hand ghost over Finn’s shoulder blade, down where the scar’s hidden beneath layers of leather and cloth.

Finn doesn’t flinch away at Poe’s fleeting touch. A harshness seeps into his eyes; the usual look Finn gets when he thinks about the Order and everything it has put him through. ”Yeah, but I’ll manage. Just, seeing snow again reminds me of _Starkiller_ base. Of Ren.”

_Ren.  
_ Kylo Ren.

The mere mention of Ren’s name makes Poe’s mind trickle with needles. Thousands of them, all tugging at Poe’s memories; how it felt to be invaded in the most brutal way there was. If safety couldn’t even be found in his own mind, where else could he possibly find it?

”You should’ve said something,” Poe says. He’s close to head straight to the cockpit and order Chewbacca to turn the ship around; they could find a different planet, somewhere where Finn don't have to relive the pain of getting hurt from Ren’s lightsaber over and over again, ”you should’ve told me, I could’ve made sure that we went to a different planet -”

Finn stares him down.

Every other word dies at the tip of Poe’s tongue.

”I’ll manage, Poe. If it means we’ll get the help we need to find a new base, somewhere _safe,_ it’ll be worth every memory the snow forces me to remember.”

Poe wants to argue. He feels the words stacking on top of one another in the back of his throat, how Finn shouldn’t put his own dread away like it’s nothing.

Finn must sense the fight in him, because he turns to fully face Poe with the determination of someone that’s much stronger than Poe’ll ever be. His hands take a hold Poe’s, his grasp so gentle that it makes Poe’s heart flutter behind strained ribs.

The press of lips on each of Poe’s knuckles is even gentler. The flutter of butterfly wings, in the shape of Finn’s lips.

Poe thinks back to how Finn had dragged his finger alongside Poe’s arm when Rey lifted the stones from their way out on Crait. How he’d hope to hold onto Finn’s hand to keep him from soaring off into the sky, and how his fear had turned soft as their fingers entwined. 

This is different than how he felt then.

This is what Poe would throw himself head-first into hundreds of battles to experience again.

”Don’t worry about me, not when there’s so much else at stake,” Finn says. He looks unsure, as if he’d just stepped over a line drawn in the sand with his previous action, but he must find something on the contrary on Poe’s face since the uncertainty turns into the softest smile Poe’s ever seen, ”as I said, I’ll manage.”

Poe wants yet again to argue about how Finn needs to stop pushing his own comfort down for others, but the words slip back down to the pit of his stomach when BB-8 comes rolling towards them.

_[Master-Poe, Friend-Finn],_ the droid beeps as a greeting.

”Hey buddy,” Poe pulls away from Finn, feeling the loss of his warmth instantly when he crouches down to BB-8’s level. He pats the droid gently on it’s head. ”What’s up?”

Finn leans so he can drag his hand over the droid’s head too, his hand brushing against Poe’s. ”Hi, BB-8.”

BB-8 makes a satisfied noise over gaining both of their attention. Always one to bask in the attention, that one. _[Friend-Rey and General-Leia requests Master-Poe’s and Friend-Finn’s presence. Landing in Hoth-base very soon]._

”What does it say?” Finn looks over at Poe.

Poe makes a mental note that he needs to teach Finn binary when things have quiet down a bit. 

”Rey and Leia are looking for us. We’re landing soon, so they probably want to discuss what we’ll do when we’ve touched down.”

_[Affirmative. Follow me, Master-Poe, Friend-Finn]._

 

*~*

 

 

Iolo scatters the few jackets he’s found in the _Falcon_ ’s living quarters on the table, beside the map of the galaxy and their collected star charts. He doesn’t look in the direction of the General, but Poe notices how Leia’s face drops when she takes the clothing in.

You wouldn’t have to be an expert to understand that the three pieces of clothing must’ve belonged to Han Solo at some point; the deep, gut-wrenching sorrow glimmering in Leia’s eyes is enough of a indication as any.

Poe’s own grief feels small in comparison. He can’t even begin to fathom how it must feel to lose both your husband and brother in such a short amount of time, and then also carry the loss of so many good people on top of that.

To lead in war meant having people die on your watch. Poe thinks there’ll never come a day when it’s easier to handle, but maybe it’ll come day when it’s easier not to show how affected you get for the sake of keeping the survivors hopes afloat.

As quick as it presented itself, the sorrow fades out of the General’s eyes and her shielded, natural expression takes it’s place.

”These we’ll keep some of us warm. Hopefully there’ll be more equipment left in the base, warmer clothing forgotten in the rush to leave all those years ago,” Iolo says, gesturing to the jackets. He’s one of the few pilots that survived; one of the few good friends Poe still has left in the galaxy.

Poe squeezes Iolo’s shoulder, nodding in agreement. ”It’s a good thought, Iolo. I’ll lead a small search party once we land, to look for any signs of life and clothing.” The words are barely out of his mouth before Finn quips in with a ”I’ll go with Poe”, followed by a ”as will I” from Rey.

_[Master-Poe, I will come with too]_ beeps BB-8.

Warmth, a slow, appreciative one, spreads through Poe’s chest. He does a tiny nod, a smile playing over his lips, toward Finn and Rey; pats BB-8’s head, and looks over at where the General’s standing by the hologram map.

”Sounds like the four of you have already made up your minds,” Leia finishes with a sigh. ”No signs of life comes up on our scanners, but keep your guards up and be at the ready. We’ve lost enough good people to last for entire lifetimes, I don’t want to add your names to that list, too.”

The rest nods to the General’s statement. Sorrow glistens in the everyones' eyes, some better to keep it hidden than others.

War is brutal, Poe knew that when he signed up, but he naively hoped he would never have to be face to face with this side of the brutality. Oh, if he’d only known where he’d end up. Would any of his decisions been different if he’d known?

”We’ll be careful,” Poe says. The ghost of a promise, one he hopefully can keep. ”BB-8 can keep an comm open with the _Falcon_ and report as soon as we find something.”

Leia nods. ”Good. Suit up and be ready to depart as soon as we land.”

 

Out of the four members of the search party, Poe’s the only one who’s seen how the old rebel base looks like beforehand. He grew up with stories about the battle on Hoth from his mother; she’s shown him holos of the base, and he shivered every time he saw the endless piles of snow and the icy spikes dangling from the roof.

Poe shivers in pure reflex when he steps down the ramp, following BB-8. It’s cold, a lot colder than he expected, and he’s grateful for the thickness of the jacket he’s wearing. His fingers is a a different story, his skin already reddening from where he’s holding onto the flashlight. 

The hangar is dark; what little light there is, comes from the sky outside; the dim night offering some sort of support thanks to the hangar door still being open.

Their first task would have to be to get the power running. The _Falcon’s_ protected somewhat from the ravishing winds outside, but it’d be good for all of them to get the door shut to keep them even more shielded from the outside terrain.

”There’s faint darkness lingering here,” Rey says. She crouches down on the icy ground, fingers touching the floor with great care: like she’s worried she’ll disturb the very essence of the place if she doesn’t use caution. ”Barely anything at all, but I can feel traces of it in the air; the light too, barely seeping in through the cracks,” she adds, standing up. ”Remains from a different time; a different war.”

Poe’s mouth is thin as a line. ”My mother told me stories about the war against the Empire,” he says as they slowly make their way through the hangar, four beams of light dancing over the room. He throws a quick look over his shoulder to make sure that Rey and Finn are following him, but he has nothing to worry about: both of his friends are trailing right behind him, Rey with both great focus and curiosity gracing her features, while Finn’s lost in awe. ”One of the most famous battles took place here. The Rebellion fought bravely, but they didn’t stand a chance against the Empire’s AT-ATs and their dark lord.”

Rey takes a sharp breath. ”Darth Vader, of course. Explains the darkness lingering here. Power such as his is bound to leave traces behind.”

She strolls past Poe with confidence in her steps. Watching her back as she takes the lead, Poe thinks of how much she’s changed ever since she left to train to become a Jedi.

He only met Rey briefly back on D’Qar, not much to make a good impression of, but he would have to be blind not to see that this woman was lightyears away from the scavenger girl from Jakku. During the last few days, he’s managed to talk to her a bit more, and he understands now why Finn likes her so much.

Where Kylo Ren is intimidating and leave scars that will never heal, Rey is a source of stability in the middle of a ravishing storm. She fights not only for herself, but for all of them, too. She have fought Kylo more than once and come out alive of it every time.

If there’s someone who’ll stand up to the darkness, it’s her.

Poe’s grateful to have Rey on their side.

”We should check the controls by the door first,” he calls out after her. Not that he thinks they’re working after thirty years of nothing, but it didn’t hurt to try.

”On it,” Rey replies, and she’s taking off towards the door with BB-8 trailing beside her.

Finn comes up next to Poe; the beam from Finn’s flashlight dances all over the room while he tries to take everything in. Neither Finn nor Rey seems disturbed by the cold, Poe wonders why he’s the only one who’s visibly shivering. Shouldn’t he be the most experienced out of the three of them? Surely he should stand against cold better than the woman who grew up on a desert planet, right?

”Did the rebellion really live here?” Finn asks, curiosity taking the upper hand. ”I mean, it’s not the most idle place to have a base, if I say so myself, but maybe that’s why it would work in the first place.”

Poe snorts. ”They did. Not for long though, the Empire made sure of that. It’s a good place if you look past the fact that you’ll most likely lose a couple of toes and fingers in the process.” He switches the flashlight to his other hand, stretching out his stiff fingers to get the blood going again.

”The General told me that Han S- Han always complained that he’d freeze a ”damn testicle” off if he stayed here long enough,” Finn says, chuckling sadly, ”I didn’t know Han for long, but it sounds exactly like something I could imagine him saying.”

A smile breaks out over Poe’s face, a soft laugh spilling from his mouth. ”Oh, that sounds _exactly_ like something he would say. I can practically picture how he said it too, and what the General’s response must’ve been.”

Finn laughs with him, and for a moment it feels like they’re far away from heartache. For a moment Poe can almost relish in how it used to be when he could be happy and _feel_ it in every part of his being, not this crooked version of it that came along with facing too much heartache; too much bloodshed. 

It works for a second or so, before Poe remembers that Han Solo (the legendary smuggler-turned-general-turned-smuggler who flew the _Millennium Falcon_ with Chewbacca at his side; Leia’s _husband)_ is _dead_ , just like so many others.

Friends. Comrades in arms. Civilians. Endless, endless amounts of civilians.

He knows that there’s no reason to keep himself from _living,_ but it’s still so fresh in his mind; the grief in his chest, puncturing holes at his lungs and making it hard for him to breath properly.

Finn drags his fingers over the back of Poe’s hand. For the moment, that’s more than enough.

The old base is functional, despite how long it’s been abandoned. Some of the tunnels have caved in, but the main ones which goes between the different sections are more or less intact, save some loose rubble and forgotten junk.

After some tinkering with the reactor, Rey gets it up and running on a decent capacity. The hangar door shuts, saving them at least somewhat from the cold winds outside; the lights are also working, but they’re nowhere fully lit. It’s enough for the group to be able to look around without their flashlights, so that would have to be enough for their short stay.

Finn goes through some of the old rebels' lockers and luckily come across a bunch of old jackets. They’ve stiffened slightly from the cold, but overall they’re fit for use. Along with a some furs and blankets, Finn and Rey brings what they’ve found back to the _Falcon_ while Poe continues to map out the place along with BB-8.

Without his friends chattering, Poe slips into his thoughts almost instantly. As he goes along a long corridor, back towards the command centre of the base, he wonders what must’ve gone through the rebels’ minds during the fight.

Did the rebels back then feel like the rebels of the Resistance does now? Did they fear that losing solid ground here would be the end of them, or were they able to find hope even in the darkest of times?

Poe steels himself, because he can’t wander down that path. Not now; not _ever._ He’s a commander, and a commander needs to be strong. There’s no place in his mind for doubt, not when he needs to tend the flicker of hope to keep it alive. 

The General _needs_ Poe, he knows that. She needs him to be ready to pick up from where she left off if she ever - if something ever would -

_No._

To even consider the end of that thought ever becoming reality makes his heart seize up in fear. Still, despite how much it _hurts,_ Poe knows no one is immortal. Leia is the strongest person Poe’s ever known - and he knows a fair share of them - but she isn’t invincible.

None of them are.

But neither are their enemies.

_[Master-Poe, are you alright?]_

BB-8 nudges it’s head against Poe’s leg, looking up at him with as much concern as a droid without a face can muster. Frankly, it’s quite a lot.

”I’m fine, buddy,” Poe says with a tiny smile. He places his hand on BB-8’s head, rubbing it gently. His skin is red and stings at the touch, but BB-8’s comfort comes before Poe’s own, ”just have a lot on my mind right now.”

BB-8 doesn’t push, but it makes a sad sound that shows it’s disbelief in Poe’s well-being.

Poe doesn’t have it in him to try to make BB-8 believe otherwise.

While Poe’s been lost in his thoughts, he’d managed to reach the old command centre. He's standing by the console in the middle of the room. Where it used to be a map of the galaxy is now empty space; the room is stripped bare of anything of value, along with plenty of broken equipment. Holes from blasters through some of the screens; broken pieces of metal scattered across the floor; old blasters thrown in the corner.

Poe wonders if this is how it’ll be in the future. Will someone, thirty years from now, look back at places where the Resistance had been and wonder what went on in their heads?

Will Poe even be alive to see it?

 

When Poe heads back to the hangar, he’s forced to take in just how big the space is. The dark had left most of it hidden, but now he’s able to notice how much of the hangar that's left empty.

   The Restiance's only ship resides in the far end of the hangar. It’s big, bigger than an X-Wing by far, but it’s not big enough to make the rest of the room feel smaller. There’s more than enough room for a bunch of X-Wings, shuttles and speeders.

Poe can’t look away.

It comes in waves, his grief; one minute he’s in control, only to be on his knees, clutching at his chest the next.

Swallowing down the stone is his throat only makes his mouth taste of ash. Sorrow lingers on his tongue; black, thick goo that keeps threatening to spill out.

He doesn’t cry, but oh how he _wants_ to.

 

General Organa is one of the last to exit the _Falcon_. She strides down the ramp, one of the furs thrown around her shoulders, a force to be reckoned with. Poe waits for her by the end of the ramp, BB-8 loudly beeping beside him.

”I never thought I’d get to see this frozen hell again,” Leia’s eyes have the same, pained expression as when Iolo found Han’s jackets. Her smile is even bleaker than the icy walls, barely even there at all. ”Sadly it looks exactly like I remember it. Han would’ve been so pleased.” 

Poe can sense what she’s left unsaid. How Leia never thought she’d come back here without Luke. Or _Han_. How much more must she sacrifice until she’s given enough? He wants to scope up all of her grief, every ounce of pain this war has made her feel, and throw it away into space where no one would ever have to see it again.

When words escape him, Poe relies on action. He places his hand on her shoulder and gives it a light squeeze. ”Let’s hope all of our limbs are still attached once we leave, yeah?” 

Leia gives him another bleak smile. Memories swims in her eyes; memories from a past in which both her brother and husband were alive. The human behind the strong facade, the one who Poe admires so much; a leader Poe one days hopes he’ll resemble.

”How are you feeling, commander?” she asks quietly while they walk towards the tunnels.

Poe settles on something between the truth and a lie. ”Well, I’ve seen better days.” A rueful smile spreads over his face; one that causes Leia to make Poe come to a halt.

When he looks at her, Poe sees a piece of himself staring back at him.

”Grief is what makes us who we are, Dameron. We’ll have time to properly mourn once the war is over,” Leia says, her voice soft but with a firm edge, ”until then, try to find the balance in-between. Take care of your grief, but don’t let it take over you, either.”

Poe ducks his head, a ragged breath escaping his lips. ”How do you do it? How do you find that balance?”

”You tell me when you’ve found. Sometimes it gets easier, but other times it feels like the weight of an entire planet against your ribs. It’s always gonna be tough, that much I know.”

 

 

*~*

 

 

Things settle down when most of the personel have left the _Falcon_ to explore the old base. Rey, with the help of a mechanic named Sar’va, manages to stabilise a comm-link with Lando (Finn whispers ”Rose should’ve been here, she would’ve made it to work in a heartbeat” just loud enough for Poe to hear him while the two women are still tinkering with the console. Poe holds Finn's hand until the guilt’s subdued again). They tell Lando about their progress, and in response he tells them of what little he dares to share over the link.

Lando’s still due in a few days; and with his incoming arrival, hope manages to live on. Despite how small it might be, it still runs through their veins and beats in their hearts.

They still have to receive answers from other allies; for each day that passes by, the General seems more and more sure of that they may be without more help than expected. It’s disheartening, but with Lando’s help, maybe they’ll find a way to regain their footing once more.

Poe sits beside Finn while most of the personel are coped up in the base’s command centre, sharing a meagre meal. He’s gravitating towards Finn like a man searching after water in a desert; when he’s close to Finn, at least he gets to feel some kind of peace.

Finn’s affectionate and honest in a way not many else are. How a man could grow up under the strict, direct control of the First Order and still come out kind, passionate and _true_ is more than anyone could even begin to comprehend.

Finn, whatever he likes it or not, is proof that the Order can turn on itself. He’s proof that even those who are deemed gone, can be saved or find their will to save themselves. Poe’s sure, that if other Stormtroopers saw of what Finn had become, _whom_ he’s turned into, more would follow.

The man who first was no more than a number, the part of a deadly machine, now has a name and is considered to be a hero. _Is_ a hero. But more importantly, Finn’s become a person, with every little step he takes he becomes more aligned with finding himself and who he wants to be.

Where Leia inspires Poe to become the best leader he can be, Finn inspires him to be the _person_ he can be.

Ever since Finn removed his helmet back at the _Finalizer,_ Poe’s loved him. 

He fell in love with a man who had nothing. He fell in love again and again and again with man who became _someone._

The hope beating in Poe’s chest feels a lot like Finn’s name.

”We’ve made contact with Lando, and everything seems to be going according to plan. He’s on his way here, but I think all of you here knows that openly supporting us at the moment is bound to end with tragedy. He’s being cautious for once, and for that I’m grateful.”

Poe overheard a conversation between Leia and Lando the other night (the _Falcon_ may be a bit bigger than your average ship, but it’s not made to host a group of their seize comfortably which leads to some less than ideal places to sleep at, like the floor) and it’s the first time he’s heard the General cry. He only caught the end of the conversation, but from the tone in both of their voices it was clear that they’ve been discussing either Han or Luke or maybe even both. From what Poe knows about the legends of the last war, Lando played an important part in it; the _Falcon’s_ original owner, and a close friend of Han Solo.

Standing beside the General as she tells the group about her friend makes Poe think back to that conversation. Lando is too another one of the people Leia holds dear that can bite the dust for this war.

”Have we heard anything from anyone out in the Outer Rim yet?” Iolo asks. ”What will we do if Lando doesn’t show, or if the First Order finds out where we are?”

Poe places his hands on the console and leans forward, looking across the machine to where his friends are gathered in a half circle formation. There’s still faces and names he needs to put stories to. ”Not yet. It’s disheartening that we haven’t received any sort of information about the status of our comrades in the Outer Rim, but then again, we aren’t aware of if the First Order have targeted them or not either. We can only hope that they get back to us as soon as possible, and with good news at that.”

”We’ll find a way, we always do,” Leia finishes. ”If the First Order finds us, we’ll give them hell. We may be few in numbers, but we won’t go down without a fight.”

Cheers comes from the crowd. It’s a miracle all of them have survived for this long. They know that this will either end in heartache or glory; what matters is how much damage they can make to the Order before they reach their end.

The thought is bitter, but there’s some kind of hope to find in the truth.

Every second they get to spend with the people they love; every second they get to spend _alive_ means more than any weight in gold ever would.

”The First Order knows about our weakened state, but I don’t think they realise what we have at our disposal,” Poe continues. He meets Rey’s gaze; her lips tugs upwards in a tiny smile, her whole presence resonating both calm and strength. When Poe looks at her, he can believe his own words; the truth that lays within them. ”We have a Jedi, and not just any Jedi. Rey’s fought and won against Kylo Ren, the Order’s biggest weapon. She’s trained under the legendary Luke Skywalker, and I’m willing to bet my life on that she could face us all and win without even breaking a sweat.”

If Rey’s uncomfortable with the praise and the looks, she doesn’t show it. She bows her head in a gesture of respect towards Poe and the General; when she looks up, determination shines in her eyes. The role she has in this war is for her clear as any, and she has accepted it for what it is; despite how frightening and heavy it may be to keep the expectations of so many on your shoulders.

Poe glances at the General, unsure if he should go on. She nods her head.

”All of us in this room have a role to play. The responsibility on our shoulders can be crushing to take in; there's so much at stake. We’ve lost so many, how much can we take before we crumble? I don’t know about the limit of grief a person can feel at once, but I'm sure we’re all past that line by now. What this war has proved is that help can be found in the most unlikely places,” Poe finds Finn’s face in the crowd; finds those dark, familiar eyes he could happily drown in, ”and for me, I found help in the heart of the First Order. One remarkably brave Stormtrooper who turned against the only life he knew to help _me_ , a stranger fighting for a different cause. He showed me, all of us, that no one’s truly gone; if we could show the Stormtroopers that there’s another way, one where they’re free to take names of their own, I’m willing to once again bet my life on that some would break away. It’s already happened once, who says it can’t happen again? All of us in this room right now, are the spark that will burn the First Order down from the inside and out.”

Poe’s trembling with adrenaline. He’s grateful that his hands are on the console, otherwise would they be shaking like leaves. His voice echoes out, but in it’s place comes a another wave of cheers and clapping. 

Finn stands out against the crowd; Poe can’t take his eyes off him, he’s drenched in a cold sweat and his head’s buzzing with conviction, but he still can’t look away from Finn’s face.

Finn doesn’t look away either. Uncertainty resides in the tightness of his lips, disbelief in his own abilities and Poe wants to sprint across the room and shake his shoulders until Finn understands the depth of his own potential. Finn’s eyes though, shines of hope. Even if he doesn’t believe in his role to play, he believes in what they can accomplish together.

Poe wishes so badly that all of his friends where here. How Jessika’s, Karé’s and Snap’s faces are missing from the crowd. How much it _hurts, hurts, hurts_ not to have them here.

He lifts his fist shakily into the air.

It takes every ounce of what little willpower he has left not to cry.

 

*~*

 

Poe misses Finn by a second once the meeting’s done. Finn sends him a apologetic look before heads off with the General, and Poe watches them leave with a curious sort of wonder. He gets no time to linger on what the two of them possibly could be discussing, because Rey swops in from the side and takes him completely off guard with one of those tiny smiles of hers.

”You did good up there,” she says. ”You really have the ability to make people listen, you know?”

Poe makes an odd sort of chuckling sound, rubbing at the back of his neck. In the glow of her eyes, he feels close to embarrassed. ”The General has taught me everything she knows, along with a bunch of other commanders in my years of duty. I’m just doing what hundreds, hell, _thousands_ of others have done before me.”

Rey places her hand on his shoulder. The jacket from before is switched for a fur she’s draped across her shoulders, a lot like the General’s done, too. She looks important; she _is_ important. ”You’re being modest, but that’s alright. Who isn’t?”

Poe laughs; Rey smiles wider, pleased to amuse. 

”I’m sorry if I put you on the spot, I didn’t mean to add more responsibility or expectations on you,” Poe says, offering a bleak smile.

Rey squeezes his arm. ”I’m a Jedi, I know what my role in this war is. You didn’t add anything I’m not already aware of, Poe. But, you sound so sure of your beliefs. Do you honestly believe I can make a big difference in all of this?”

”Just to have a Jedi to believe in again can make a huge difference for the people out there; one that’s not out to control like Kylo Ren is. You can do so much on your own, but I believe together with us in the Resistance? You and Finn can be the keys to get the war back into our favour; I believe that the two of you, with the help of all of us, can be what we need to win this war.”

 

C-3PO lets Poe sit alone by Rose’s bedside once they get back to the _Falcon._ Finn and the General have still not showed up, but he’s sure there’s nothing to worry about.

Instead, Poe listens to the soft chatter of his friends and watches how Rose’s chest rises and falls. She’s so pale; eerily similar to the snow outside, with the faintest shade of pink on her cheeks.

Her hands are on her chest. Poe catches a glimpse of something golden attached to a thin chain beneath her fingers; he tugs at it, carefully so he doesn't disturb Rose’s slumber. 

A knot he can’t swallow down fills his throat. 

It’s a necklace, shaped as the half of a moon.

Paige used to have one just like it.

When he tries to get the necklace back in place in Rose’s still hand, Poe can’t make his fingers stop trembling.

 

After awhile, Poe forgets why he even went out of the _Falcon_ in the first place. He’d spent the rest of the evening sat with Rey, Sav’ra and Iolo in the ship, endorsed in a pleasant discussion about their pasts. At first he was captivated by what his friends had to say, but as the conversation grew longer, Poe slipped out of it more and more. He couldn’t avoid the growing uneasiness in his bones; the way his mouth tasted a lot like ash.

At one point, he must’ve gotten up. How else would he have ended up out here?

The hangar is empty except for him. He’s standing by the door, and it feels even bigger up close. It’s cold to the touch; Poe feels it through the thick leather of his gloves (Finn had taken one look at his reddened fingers and shoved the gloves at Poe with a pointed sigh). It sends timid shivers down his spine.

He can see his breath. How it comes out in a small, white cloud from his lips every time he breaths.

On the other side, Poe hears how the wind howls in anger. Through the crack at the bottom of the door comes a faint gush of wind, causing his toes to curl in his boots. It’s somewhat mesmerising, the cold; he’s tired, balancing on the verge of exhausted, and he wants to feel _something_ other than the numb beast gnawing inside.

The gloves falls to the floor, along with the warm coat.

Poe places his hand fully on the cold metal, fingers sprawling out. He's been wearing a pair of much thinner, fingerless gloves underneath the others; the metal burns like an icy fire against the chapped skin of his fingerstips. Pulling away is the logical solution, but the fierceness of the touch draws Poe in.

He doesn’t want to think, because if he does he will go back to the beginning again.

_The humoured tone in Jess’ voice whenever she called Poe by his official title; Snap’s dry laugh over Poe’s odd remarks; the jolt of wonder in his stomach whenever the General had mentioned her brother._

How determined Rose had been to try and make things _right_ \- not more than hours after the loss of her sister.

Little things piling onto each other; turning into a tidal wave of memories.

Poe takes a sharp breath. His whole body’s trembling, the leather of his jacket barely giving any cover against the cold. He doesn’t mind how it feels. If anything, it makes him feel more like _himself_.

He’s willing to stand there all night if it could mend the threatening numbness inside of him. 

 

”Poe? What are you doing?”

Poe angles his head, focusing on a solid form that’s headed straight towards him.

Seconds passes. He realises the solid form is Finn.

Finn, with a worried frown attached to his features; Finn, who touches him like Poe's something that could break in the palm of Finn's hand.

In this case, Poe just might do.

”I’m, uh, I,” Poe clears his throat. He turns so his back is against the door instead, ignoring how a new wave of heavy shivers runs through him. No words comes to mind, he's left with breathing in and out while he tries to come up with  _something_ -

Finn gives him a somewhat exasperated look, removing his gloves so he can cradle both of Poe’s shuddering hands between his own. ”You’re being a _kriffing_ idiot, that’s what’s going on here. _Gods,_ you’re colder than the damn ice.”

Compared to Poe’s stiff fingers, Finn’s are warm like sunlight. Finn rubs Poe’s fingers between his own, leaning down enough to blow out warm huffs of air in a attempt to bring some warmth back to Poe’s hands.  
  
Poe’s eyes are glued at their hands; following every little movement Finn does. He melts at the gentleness in Finn’s rubs, how Finn maps out the hardened, rough skin of Poe’s hands like it’s something worth treasuring.

”Did you lose your head after the meeting? Who even _wears_ gloves without fingers, what’s the point in wearing gloves if they don’t fully cover your hands?” Finn presses on. 

Poe swallows. ”They’re easier to fly with.”

He hates how his voice breaks over the last word. Like getting anything out at all is a struggle.

_Oh if Jess could see him now,_ unable to even get the shortest of sentences out without making a fool of himself. She would’ve given him hell. Thinking about her, Poe realises, makes everything worse.

Finn gives him a look that strips Poe bare. He feels like his skin is glass; Finn can see straight through him, every little dark thing that tastes like ash on his tongue.

The tug on his hands takes Poe a second to notice. He follows Finn (he swears someone’s watching them from the ship, when he throws a quick glance over his shoulder he catches the grey fabric of Leia’s coat) to the side where there’s an opening to a tunnel. There's plenty of them around the base; this one’s caved in, it probably went out to one of the towers outside back when the base still was fully operational.

It’s not as out in the open as standing in the middle of the hangar; Poe’s grateful for the privacy. His borrowed jacket and gloves are still laying on the ground by the door.

He wants to tell Finn everything. How he embraces the cold to take the edge off the guilt and sorrow which are tangled together in a twisted dance in his chest; how it reminds him of his own humanity, and more importantly, mortality; how it makes it easier to struggle with accepting that he gets to live while so many others didn’t.

He wants to tell Finn how it would take him days, maybe even weeks, to say each and every name of all of the people they’ve lost. How it _breaks_ him to know how close it’d been to add Finn’s name to that list; how Finn’s name could still be added to that list before this war’s over for good.

Poe doesn’t realise he’s crying until Finn’s thumb brushes over his cheek to wipe the tears away. The warmth of the touch burns against Poe’s skin.

”I just,” Poe croaks out, his voice failing him yet again. Instead, he sobs on the verge of hopelessly. ” _I just.”_

”Poe,” Finn murmurs. ”I know. _I know.”_

Poe realises then that he doesn’t need to voice any of his fears out loud. _Finn knows._ He knows, he knows, _he knows._

It’s too much - Poe thinks about how Finn raced off - one lonely speeder against the entirety of the First Order’s troops - to a certain death, and how Rose - brave, amazing, wonderful _Rose_ \- was the only thing that stood between Finn and a certain  _death -_

Poe takes a step forward, pulling his hands out of Finn’s hold to instead throw his arms around Finn and pull him close. He clings to Finn for dear life; his face buried against Finn’s shoulder, while his hand rests on the nape of Finn’s neck and the other one’s digging into the jacket on his back. 

He doesn’t feel the scar beneath the different layers of clothing, but simply _knowing_ that it’s there makes Poe hold onto Finn even tighter.

They stand like this for awhile; quiet, except for Finn’s soft breathing and Poe’s shuddering sobs. Poe sinks deeper, internally cursing Finn for being smart enough to keep his warmer jacket on, while Poe has goosebumps all over under the chilling leather.

When Finn speaks, his voice’s hoarser; deeper. ”What you said earlier, at the meeting. I.. - I don’t feel brave. I’ve never felt brave, for most of the time I’m scared out of mind. I’m - I, kriff, I’m not who you _think_ I am; I’ve wanted to run away more than once, I only _met_ Rose because I was trying to sneak off into one of the escape shuttles! She kissed me after she saved my life, and I wasn't even brave enough to tell her truth or to kiss her back; even if it wasn't what I wanted to do. I couldn't even do that for her!” 

Finn’s pulling back, but not enough to leave the embrace completely. A flash of desperation shines in his eyes, like he _needs_ to make Poe understand this. ”I thought I was doing the right thing, driving off to stop that weapon. I thought that my life was worth sacrificing if it meant that I could destroy it - only _then,_ when I had given my life for the fight, I’d be brave. Only then would I be worthy of being the _hero_ everyone keeps telling me I am.”

For every word that comes out of Finn’s mouth, a piece of Poe breaks.

He breaks over how little Finn has thought of himself; how Finn hasn’t noticed that all of his mistakes are what makes him brave. He breaks even more of the mention of Rose's kiss. She deserves the world; Poe can't blame her for falling for the kindest soul the galaxy's got left. He's right there with her. And Finn,  _gods,_ Finn feels bad for not kissing her back.

   There’s a fire in Finn, and it burns brighter than anything Poe’s ever seen. Rose must've noticed it too.

Poe wants to tell Finn so much; how much stronger Finn is than he gives himself credit for, that he _saved_ Poe’s life and would always be a hero in his eyes.

”It doesn’t matter that you wanted to run away,” Poe says, his voice still shaking over certain words. ”What matters is that even though you wanted to, you stayed. All of us are afraid, but it’s that we continue to press on despite the fear that makes us brave.”

He moves his fingers up and down in a tiny line across Finn’s neck. ”I recently learned the hard way that it’s not always worth the cost to be a hero. Doing something heroic, like sacrificing good people, for the sake of the fight isn’t always the best thing to do. Sometimes it’s better to pull back and look through your options than to rush in with your head first; to wake up for another day - to _live_ for one more day is a luxury neither of us should be taking for granted.”

Poe moves his other hand so both of his hands are curled around Finn’s neck. He looks straight into those dark, beautiful eyes and hopes Finn can see the truth in Poe’s eyes; the certainty; the _love._ ”If I start to list the names of everyone who have died in this war, it’d take me days to finish it. You have to promise you won’t be doing something that stupid again. You have to promise me that whatever happens, I won’t have to add your name to that list. _Please,_ Finn. _Please.”_

One of Finn’s hands are curled around Poe’s wrist, while the other digs into the locks of hair on Poe’s neck. He keeps rubbing tiny circles where he can feel Poe’s pulse when they lean their foreheads together.

Poe’s eyes fall shut by instinct.

He focuses on the pressure of Finn’s hands. How right it feels to be this close; how utter marvellous it is that something in this world still can feel so _right._

Breathing the same air. 

   Poe wants nothing more than sink into Finn’s arms and never move again.

”You and Rey,” Poe whispers. ”You and Rey are the keys to our peace. Rey’s strength as a Jedi, and your bravery to stand up against the First Order. I do believe with my whole heart that you’ll be able to turn their own against them. I may be one of the few commanding officers the Resistance have left, but for you I’d follow you to hell and back. For you, Finn, I’d follow you to the very edge of the galaxy if that’s what I have to do just to be near you. Through every fight, through it all, I’m gonna be by your side, that I know as clear as the air I breath.”

Finn’s silence drags out for a good few seconds at most. To Poe, it seems like a lifetime. A lifetime in which Poe’s ripped his chest open for Finn to look at; a lifetime in which he forgets the sound of Finn’s voice; how _good_ Poe’s name sounds when it drops from Finn’s lips.

” _Poe,”_ Finn croaks out, his voice so hoarse and ravished it makes Poe shiver. ”Can I kiss you?”

The shiver turns into the steady rhythm of a tremble.

Poe opens his eyes, only to find the same burning devotion that roams in his heart mirrored in Finn’s. A second later and he’s pinpointed the same desperation too; the very same _need_ for something to be real in this mess of a life; something that blocks out the pain - the _grief_ \- if only just temporarily.

Poe leans forward.

Finn meets him halfway.

As gentle as the press of lips against Poe’s knuckles, lips brushing against lips in a movement so tender; so vulnerable, that Poe’s heart aches in his chest. He lets his hands slide and cup around Finn’s cheeks, holding him in place and it’s what bursts the dams wide open.

Their bodies are colliding; Finn presses Poe back, until Poe’s back is against the wall and their names becomes pleas on each of their lips. Fingers, trembling, moves over Poe’s back, some of them digging into the back of his head, tangling with messy curls. The sounds Finn makes is enough to make anyone fall to his knees in awe; Poe’s not any man, but if Finn hadn't been holding him up with the strength of his body alone, Poe would've been on his knees. Every part of him is loose and liquified.

Poe’s positive he needs this more than air. He feels everything at once; the need is enough to consume him from inside and out, something pounding against his ribs that feels a lot like Finn’s name.  
  
_Finn. Finn. Finn._

Breaking apart is more due to the need for air than wanting to stop. Their foreheads are still touching, their breaths still mixing. Where Poe moments ago felt icing cold, he now feels pleasantly warm all over; some parts are burning, almost as much as Finn is.

Finn’s voice is still so hoarse and broken when he speaks. ”I’m going to fight - for this. For _us._ For Rey. For Rose, Leia, Chewbacca; everyone who’s ever stood up against the Order; everyone whom have lost something or someone they loved to their cruelty. I’m going to fight for those who can’t fight for themselves, fight for those who’ve already lost; fight for what’s _right,_ even if I’m terrified of it not being enough. Terrified I might lose everything and everyone I _love.”_

He leans back, but only so he could press a kiss to Poe’s forehead. ”That’s what I talked to the General about. If there’s anything I can do to show the other Stormtroopers of what their lives could look like free from the Order, I’ll do it. With Lando’s help we’ll get something to work, I know it. But,” Finn strokes his fingers over Poe’s cheeks, ever so gently. ”Promise me I don’t have to lose you. Promise me that I won’t have to add _your_ name to _that_ list.”  
_  
_ Hope is a fragile thing.

When Poe listens to the words spilling out of Finn’s mouth, hope burns a bit brighter and with more substance than before. He holds onto the feeling with whitening knuckles, and he knows - _he knows_ \- he’ll do everything in his power to fight this fight at Finn’s side.

”You’ll never lose me,” Poe says. ”You’ll never lose me, because I’m gonna be right there fighting alongside you.”

**Author's Note:**

> This turned out longer than I planned, which isn't much of a surprise but still!! 
> 
> I don't plan to make this into a longer story, this was more of a testing the waters kind of thing to see if I could write something for this pairing or not, so please do let me know if I succeeded or not, especially when it comes to capturing the personalities of the characters :')
> 
> Please, do leave a kudo/comment/bookmark if you enjoyed this piece, it would mean so much to me to hear about your thoughts!
> 
> You can follow me on tumblr too if you'd like, I'm [distant-solar-systems](http://distant-solar-systems.tumblr.com/). I'm currently in the middle of writing a pretty huge Finnpoe AU, so pop over there and cheer me on if you like :)
> 
> Thanks a lot for reading, and hopefully I'll be seeing you all again in a different fic. xx


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